


Delayed Definition

by AzcaSky



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Mention of attempted suicide, Pining, Slice of Life, maybe? - Freeform, mention of depression, with a little angst, yonghoon is dazzling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzcaSky/pseuds/AzcaSky
Summary: "Hyung, let's go busking."It was pretty underwhelming, the way Dongmyeong says it, laying down on Hyungu's bed, leg propped up the wall, head lolling back upside down. There's music coming from his forgotten PSP, playing a pause screen BGM for Kingdom Hearts over and over. On the bed snack wrappings are everywhere, as well as Hyungu's half-dirty tshirts and books and guitar picks. Somehow, though, Dongmyeong still looks pretty.
Relationships: Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun/Son Dongmyeong, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's one sentence in my previous [work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356941) about their story and I kinda want to elaborate it but somehow it turned into this... well. This work can be read independently though! 
> 
> This work is mostly finished but I'll post updates every three days or so.  
> Also this is the first REALLY long fic that I ever written, so criticism is appreciated but please be gentle with me :")

"Hyung, let's go busking."

It is pretty underwhelming, the way Dongmyeong says it, laying down on Hyungu's bed, leg propped up the wall, head lolling back upside down. There's music coming from his forgotten PSP, playing a pause screen BGM for Kingdom Hearts over and over. On the bed, snack wrappings are everywhere, as well as Hyungu's half-dirty tshirts and books and guitar picks. In between all those mess, somehow, Dongmyeong still looks pretty.

"Now?"

Dongmyeong wriggles and sits up, facing Hyungu properly. Shame, Hyungu was just beginning to get quite fascinated at how Dongmyeong's lashes look longer upside down.

"Yeah. Come on." Dongmyeong's standing, now, looking at Hyungu who is sitting on the floor and has been trying to tune his guitar for the good part of the hour.

"This guitar's messed up, though."

"It's okay,"

Dongmyeong pulls him to a stand, a bit forcefully. Despite having a serious case of bed hair, pillow streak on his cheek, and a rumpled sleeveless tshirt, he looks brilliant. Convincing. A little off. Irresistible.

So out they go, Hyungu barely managing to stuff his guitar into its case, because the next thing he knows Dongmyeong is _bolting_ outside, running and laughing, and Hyungu still needs to wear his shoes and locks the door. "Hey! Wait up!"

They run all the way to the next three blocks or so, in the middle of summer heat, for a reason he doesn't quite get just yet. Hyungu thinks about the PSP that he had left on, hopes that the power saving mode still functions, and that Dongmyeong didn't forget to save the game progress. He looks at his canvas shoes and realizes it doesn't match, the left is faded red while the right is faded black with star prints, both messily untied. He's thinking of stopping to tie it but if he does he wouldn't be able to catch up, and he wonders how Dongmyeong can even run that fast (spoiler: he doesn't have a huge-ass guitar on his back) and is thankful that at least both his shoes are faded, and at least it's a pair instead of the same side. There's so many things to think about, so many things to worry, but there's no time. Now, Hyungu just runs with his heavy guitar and heavier breath.

When they stop, eventually, Dongmyeong has a big smile on his face, despite having hands on his knees, panting all the same.

Hyungu catches up to him, "Why did you run?"

But Dongmyeong just laughs, and it sounds pretty enough that Hyungu can somewhat forgive him, a little.

"I know, right." He says, then grabs Hyungu's hand to enter the apartment building in front of them, "Let's go."

It turns out, the apartment building is Seoho and Geonhak's place. Hyungu vaguely remembers the two living merely four blocks away from them, and marvels at the thought that he just ran four blocks without stopping, all because Dongmyeong had said _let's go_. Maybe he's the one who's crazy.

"What happened to your clothes?" Geonhak asks in place of greeting, seeing how drenched they are with sweat. "Did it rain?"

Hyungu doesn't explain, couldn't think of an explanation even if he tried, so he just glances at his younger friend, trying to discern his expression. Adrenaline might have made them reckless, but at this point, after three flight of stairs they were taking with their last bits of energy, maybe it has run out its course.

"Hyung! Let us borrow a shower!"

Fuck adrenaline.

They take turn showering, quick cold shower that refreshes them completely and washes away their sweat. Seoho provides them with clean tshirts, giggling when Hyungu shuts the door on his face when he asked _do you need underwear too?_

In the living room, Geonhak is drying Dongmyeong's freshly showered hair with a blowdryer while they chat loudly, smiling wide. It's amazing how Dongmyeong doesn't seem tired at all, considering Hyungu even had to lean to the wall just to be able to stand upright and shower properly.

Hyungu trots weakly to them, sidling up to Dongmyeong's side, "Hyung, dry my hair too."

Geonhak laughs fondly, complying.

After a while, Seoho comes with iced tea and pranks, and Hyungu feels content as they talk about all the impulsive pranks they did in high school. In between bits of teenage anecdotes, Hyungu and Dongmyeong seem to forget the idea of busking entirely, forget the fact that Hyungu had brought the heavy guitar for, seemingly, nothing. But all of that aren’t important. Hyungu can feel his thoughts melt along with the ice cubes in his glass, turning into pleasant cold spots sticking to his hand.

He was almost asleep when Seoho starts bragging, "I was popular, you know."

Geonhak snickers while Dongmyeong cheers. Seoho ignores all the reactions, including Hyungu's drowsy _huh_ , in favor of continuing, "A lot of girls would always send me letters for valentine, and some of them even confessed!"

"That's bull." Geonhak teases, "You were ugly in high school."

"You can think that, but I won the prom queen competition." Seoho sticks out his tongue.

"Queen?"

"It was a crossdress competition."

Geonhak laughs, loudly, and to Hyungu's humble opinion it sounds like a country dog barking.

"It's okay, hyung, I know you're pretty." Hyungu tries to appease him, because if he starts bickering with Geonhak, they'd never stop. And then he and Dongmyeong has to pretend to take sides. To be fair, they keep tabs on all the times of who sides with who, but Hyungu is tired and sleepy, and he doesn't remember whether he said he likes or hates mint choco (neither; it's just food for him) last time. If he accidentally pick the same side as Dongmyeong, their argument would just be insufferable, because both Geonhak and Seoho are sore losers.

All in all, listening to Seoho rambling on and on about his alleged popularity in high school with Geonhak's low rumble behind him is not so bad. Dongmyeong’s body heat makes it almost too warm but there’s also wind blowing by the open window, and it creates a perfect situation for a nap. It's nothing special, but he's comfortable.

He falls asleep like that.

When he wakes up, the sun has already dipped. The living room is bathed in orange light and long shadows. Somehow, he's on the sofa, with proper pillows and blankets, while the rest of the guys pile on the floor, all sleeping. Only Seoho's blanket is intact, the other being half-crushed by Dongmyeong's legs. Geonhak is the only one with actual pillow, while his shoulder becomes Dongmyeong's and his stomach becomes Seoho's. It's even prettier because for once, Geonhak doesn't snore and Seoho doesn't drool. (Dongmyeong is always pretty when he sleeps.)

Hyungu takes his time waking up, blinking slowly, letting his blood circulate. He dimly remembers holding a glass of iced tea, which is no longer in sight. Now that he thinks about it, water sounds about nice.

He steps light on his toes, like a cat, a trick he's learned because Dongmyeong gets sensitive of sounds and would wake up with the slightest noise. Dongmyeong only really sleeps over on Hyungu's place when he fights with Dongju, and that is all the more reason he should especially get a good sleep. Hyungu heard it somewhere he doesn't remember, that sleeping clears someone's mind. It might be true, it might be not, but there's nothing wrong with a proper rest. Hyungu is a good friend, he doesn’t mind being accomodating.

Apparently, though, he doesn't do the job good enough, because there Dongmyeong is, blearily trying to walk to him. There's a frown that smoothes when they eventually meet eyes, and then Dongmyeong smiles, warmly, sleepily.

"I woke up and you weren't there. Was wondering where you went." There's something very endearing about how his voice drawls just after sleeping, and Hyungu wants to fold it a thousand times so it could reach the moon.

"Sorry."

Dongmyeong shakes his head, "No, I'm sorry." He laughs a little, "For earlier. You must have been confused, right? Gosh, Dongju would have scolded me so bad."

Hyungu contemplates it, pretending to take a long swig of water to buy time. It tastes good. He's on his third gulp when he realizes he isn't exactly thinking about anything.

He is usually very slow, when it comes to feeling. He has to let his brain think before his feeling can catch up. Usually, it means expression a few seconds too late, seconds that he usually would use to construct sentences and form reactions. But today, this stunt, has left Hyungu’s brain far too exhausted. He couldn’t think when he ran, couldn’t think afterwards, and certainly isn’t thinking right now. Maybe it’s the endorphin, but Hyungu just doesn’t feel angry about it.

"I'm okay though," He finally says. Dongmyeong looks at him sheepishly. There's a booger on the corner of his eyes, along with a single eyelash on his cheek. Hyungu has an unexplainable urge to wipe it, but doesn't know how to do it without being weird. "Both with the busking, and the impulsive running. I probably need that exercise anyway."

They stay on the kitchen, talking about movies and games and a circus that's about to pass their town, snacking on Seoho's secret chocolate cookie stash. When Seoho wakes up, later, they will try to deny the accusation, pretending that the chocolate crumbs on their fingers are soot. And then Seoho will chase them around the house, until a laughing Geonhak would just grab them, siding with Seoho for once. It will be a lot of fun, and Hyungu's a little excited. But right now, the way he and Dongmyeong talk in quiet murmurs, is something he cherishes.

-

"So, we're finally doing this?" Dongmyeong is standing on Hyungu’s doorstep, dressed in his most fancy white-lined black shirt and black ripped jeans that has no stain in it. To top that off, he has make up on, carefully applied eyeliners and sparkles on the apple of his cheek, completed with a few dangling earrings. "You look..."

Dongmyeong glances at Hyungu's own attire, black short-sleeved tshirt with washed ripped jeans, and, obviously, no make up, no jewelries, and especially, no glitters on his cheeks. He winces, "Overdressed?"

"Yes.” Hyungu says, “But pretty."

Dongmyeong snorts, "Thank you. But to be fair," he pushes Hyungu inside, letting the front door closes behind his back, "Let me borrow your clothes."

There's not a lot of variation to choose from Hyungu's wardrobe, but Dongmyeong eventually finds a slightly oversized white tshirt with nice abstract print that matches well with his jeans. He took off all the earrings in his left ear and put it on Hyungu's ear, and after fifteen minutes of careful makeup applying, he smiles proudly.

"Now we match."

Hyungu has streaks of pastel red and blue on his cheek rather than silver, but its shade is similar to the print in Dongmyeong's tshirt. He stills at their reflection in the mirror, realizing that they _do_ match, in the strangest sense. He never understands it when Dongmyeong explains about color theory and non-symmetrical balance, but he knows one thing, "Woah, I look good."

Dongmyeong giggles while putting away his makeup kit, "You already look good. Make up is good for emphasizing it. If I know you're going to be this happy, I'd do it a long time ago!" He pauses for a bit, "Maybe I should take Dongju along. He's better at make up than me, you know."

Dongmyeong continues to rant about Dongju a little more. For a pair of twin who always pretend to hate each other's gut, it's endearing how often they actually talk about each other. At times, it makes Hyungu wonders how it feels like to have a twin sibling, but ultimately, as Dongmyeong gets into another fight, he doesn't want to know.

In an unexpectedly lucky turn of events, Geonhak proved to be absolute delight when he heard about their little impromptu busking plan. He told them about this music artisan who also ran a repair shop, just at the other side of the street. And he lets them borrow his acoustic guitar, as long as they take care of it and give it back by the next weekend.

They had looked at each other in the eyes, then, and decided that they’d do it. For real.

Now, they’re looking at each other’s eyes again. The reality hasn’t really caught up to them, that they have to actually perform something that has only been a hobby, or a pipe dream. They’re both anxious and comforted by the fact that there might be no one watching them.

“If it comes to that, I’ll clap for you.” Hyungu says, a little too seriously.

Dongmyeong laughs, “You’ll be too busy holding the guitar, hyung.”

-

Going busking without any real preparation, it turns out, is just nice in movies and drama.

Dongmyeong had been singing three songs, singing loudly while sitting on top of the amplifier. The problem is, without practice, there is only so much songs Hyungu can play without making mistakes, and so he made mistakes, _a lot_ of mistakes. It’s both a blessing and a curse that they had chosen the front of the subway for their first stage, because their sounds are somewhat drowned by crowds buzzing and blares of subway announcement.

“Do you want to take a break, hyung?” Dongmyeong asks after he had sang the last line of Closer by The Chainsmokers.

Hyungu grits his teeth, frustrated that he couldn’t play his guitar well enough. He wants to keep going, wants to prove that next song he could play it better, but then he looks at Dongmyeong who is furiously gulping a bottle of water, and realizes Dongmyeong needs the rest more than him. “Sure.”

The performance has been more or less a fail. They either have to change place or bring a bigger amplifier, in which Hyungu isn’t sure they’re allowed to do. Nobody came closer to them, not even a few glances. Or even if they did glance, they wouldn’t notice. Hyungu was too busy looking at his playing, nervous at having made mistakes, which lead to him making _even more_ mistakes getting even more nervous. It’s horrible. Dongmyeong isn’t faring too good either, keeps looking around with awkward smile, even when they had been playing heartbreak songs. It’s the worst.

“It’s not as easy as it seems,” Dongmyeong says, staring at his half empty bottle. “I thought we would at least have one or two passerby.”

“Let’s go home after one more song.” Hyungu fiddles with the guitar strings, “I think I remember how to play Naruto OST.”

Dongmyeong laughs, “We’re doing that?”

“Why not? No one’s listening, anyway.” Hyungu sounds a little petulant, but honestly he doesn’t want today to end up without any good thing happening. Naruto is something they’re comfortable with, something they had spent their teenage years watching on TV together.

“Well, true.”

After five more minutes of restless rest, they set the stage once more. Which mostly means that they re-plug the guitar to the amplifier and Dongmyeong start singing.

This time, Dongmyeong doesn’t bother trying to interact with the crowd. He just belts note after note, not caring that he clearly missed a line or two. He sings just like he’s in a karaoke, energetic and a little silly, and the only thing he got right is the beat he listens from Hyungu’s guitar.

_This can be fun_ , Hyungu thinks as he strums and strums, the repetitive chords already familiar in his hands.

Just as Dongmyeong pulls up the last note, they hear the sound of hands clapping. Both of them are stunned that in front of them, there stood a little girl, clapping in earnest as a woman politely claps a little behind. The older woman nods when she meets their eyes, and they nod back in reflex. They were completely unprepared when the child runs and literally jumps to Dongmyeong’s embrace. Thankfully he’s tactful enough to hold the girl up, supporting her weight with his arms, careful not to tangle the cable from the mic he’s still holding.

“Oof—” Dongmyeong smiles warmly even through his surprise. “Hello, little one.”

The girl looks back towards the woman, “Mom! I hugged Naruto-oppa!” she says, even though the only thing Dongmyeong have in common with Naruto is that his hair is kind of yellow and nothing more.

The woman looks apologetic as she steps closer, “Youngji-yah, you can’t cause him trouble like that.”

Hyungu laughs as Youngji puffed her cheek and said, petulantly, “But I’m not a trouble! Right, oppa?”

“Of course you’re not a trouble,” Dongmyeong shifts her in his arm so he can put his mic down, then shifts her again so she sits comfortably on his arm instead of hanging semi-precariously to his neck. “Is your name Youngji?”

“Yes! My name is Lee Youngji!”

“Really? My name is Dongmyeong, and that oppa there is Hyungu,” Hyungu waves his hand a little, fascinated at how the girl is responding his wave with so much enthusiast only a little girl could have, “We love Naruto too!”

“Can you play the ending song too?” 

Dongmyeong doesn’t even glance at Hyungu before answering, “Sure!” Hyungu would be affronted if he wasn’t also so thrilled by the prospect of reminiscing their geek phase together with someone who is enjoying it just as much, “Do you want to sing along?”

Youngji squeals in delight, jumping and laughing that Dongmyeong is forced to put her down to avoid accidentally dropping her. Her Mom looks nervous, but Hyungu quickly tells her that _it’s alright_ , and she looks relieved despite still being a little fidgety.

Hyungu strums his guitar regardless, letting Dongmyeong leads all the interaction with the girl. They end up singing a few times more, because she keeps asking to repeat the chorus, and they can’t help but oblige to her innocent excitement. Youngji gives them her favorite strawberry candies, dubbing them as the fellow ninja warrior. When they get tired of singing Naruto, they make up a few nursery rhyme to sing about a ninja girl with strawberry weapons.

Because the universe apparently can’t let them live the day that easily, it starts to rain. Not even a drizzle, but sudden big drops of water in relentless stream. The mother immediately carries Youngji, who screamed _Bye oppa!!_ before leaving. They couldn’t even greet her back because Hyungu is frantically trying to put his guitar into the case and Dongmyeong is busy rolling the strewn cable.

“Shelter!” Dongmyeong shouts, trying to cover the amplifier with his body.

“Go! Quick!” Hyungu says as they run directionless againts the downpour.

-

The bus stop's awning barely protects them from rain, but at least the seat is mostly dry. They sit there, soggy clothes and all, waiting. None of their house can be reached by bus that stops there, but anything’s better than running in the rain. In retrospect, they should have ran into the subway station, but it’s too late to consider it now. Hyungu wants so badly to check the guitar's condition, but he's afraid that opening the case would just expose it to the rain even more. He had to trust that the semi-vinyl material of the case would keep most of the water out.

There's nothing to do except watching as the rain drops harder and harder.

_Well,_ Hyungu thinks, _it could be worse._

Exactly at that moment, the neon lamp overhead them buzzes and flickers. They both freeze, looking awkwardly up, holding their breath. The lamp tries its hardest for a few more seconds before, finally, with a loud buzz, it explodes in sparkles of fire.

In Hyungu's eyes, the scene unfolds in a really dramatic slow motion. The sparks flutter and fall, like a really extravagant closing of a stage performance, a clap after a finale. They watch as the light blips out and disappear completely, leaving the neon tube with black soot and barely there orange glow. Truthfully, it's pretty awesome, for a lamp.

"Wow." Dongmyeong says, equally speechless.

"Yeah." Phantom lights dances in Hyungu's eyes, tainting his vision in blotches of green.

"Don't these kind of bad luck only happen in drama? Hyung, today is such a weird day."

"It really is," Hyungu tries to remember what dream he had that night, whether there's any particular unpleasantries that can justify their situation.

Dongmyeong laughs and say, "At least it can’t be worse." And Hyungu feels an instant dread, because that kind of thought is exactly what precedes their most recent bad luck. But nothing happens immediately after that and Hyungu breathes out, relieved. Coincidences.

"Well, we never know," he says, "There might be a serial killer roaming around in the rain like Jack the Ripper."

Dongmyeong hits him in the shoulder. "Don't jinx it! And Jack the Ripper doesn't kill in the rain!"

"I'm just trying to deflect my earlier jynx." The moment he says it, he realizes that it makes less sense spoken aloud than in his head, but Dongmyeong doesn't question it, doesn't question him, probably doesn’t even realize the discrepancies. He just goes on about the 2011 musical version of Jack the Ripper and how the main characters were his favorite. That version apparently differs quite a lot from the one Hyungu read a long time ago from an author he doesn't remember. What Hyungu _does_ remember is just that the cover had been yellow, and that yellow is Dongmyeong's favorite color. So now he ends up with an image of Dongmyeong in yellow jacket, lurking in the shadows with murderous eyes and knife at hand. That train of thought, too, only somewhat makes sense in his head. At least he’s now wiser by not voicing it out.

After half an hour, they begin to feel restless. The rain doesn't show any sign of letting up. They've ran out of things to talk, which might have been because the cold makes it harder to think. Their clothes sticks unpleasantly to their body, and Hyungu thinks Dongmyeong is starting to shiver.

"Should we call a taxi?" Dongmyeong wonders aloud, his teeth definitely chattering.

It's sensible, but the taxi fare all the way to any of their house would be ridiculous, especially when it would be rain-inflated. Hyungu silently regrets their decision in choosing a place that is eight stops away via subway.

Suddenly, he gets a bout of idea, "Maybe we don’t have to."

-

"You should have called earlier."

"Sorry, hyung. I forgot." Hyungu says, honestly apologetic. Beside him, Dongmyeong is smiling, feeling just as guilty.

“It might be weird for me of all people to say this, but I worry, you know,” Seoho’s voice is uncharacteristically stern as he navigates through the almost blizzard. “Storm is heading this way. Do you know you could have been seriously hurt, sitting out in the open like that? What were you thinking?”

In the passenger seat, Geonhak is trying to appease him, touching his shoulder lightly and murmurs something Hyungu can't hear. Then Geonhak turns back to them, smiling softly, “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, hyung, just wet.” Dongmyeong answers, smiling weakly, trying to hide how his teeth still chatter.

Hyungu stares at his knee, feeling chastised. He should have looked at the weather forecast before going, should have noticed how the sky began to darken, should have realized when the rain only got harsher after ten minutes. In this day and age, storm isn’t something that couldn’t be avoided, and severe typhoon that rips out trees and buildings are very rare, but the possibility is not zero. This day has been so much up and down in a speed that makes Hyungu’s brain going into overdrive, and he feels guilty.

“Hyung,” Dongmyeong taps his hand, and there’s concern leaking from his eyes, and Hyungu’s heart clenches, “We’re going to stay in Seoho-hyung’s place. Is it okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyungu answers without comprehending, too accustomed to saying yes to everything Dongmyeong is suggesting. But then Dongmyeong is still looking at him, still waiting, still giving him chance to truly think and consider. He spends it looking at Dongmyeong instead, analyzing his gaze, committing it to memory before it disappears completely, “Okay.”

Dongmyeong squeezes his hand, then smiles again, “Alright,”

For the whole ride, Dongmyeong’s hand is still on top of Hyungu’s, holding without pressing, and Hyungu feels calm and warm, even as the storm rages outside the window, even as his body won’t stop shivering.

-

This time, Hyungu wears the clothes from Seoho, including the underwear, without protesting. Seoho had been upset, reasonably so. Geonhak reassures that it comes from a place of affection instead of ridiculous superiority. Seoho is the eldest among the four, and sometimes he feels overly protective towards their little circle, despite all of them being functional adult.

Eventually, Seoho gets less upset as they settle into warm makeshift pillow fort in the living room, each holding a mug of hot chocolate. Dongmyeong tells all about their little busking mishaps, and they listen attentively, giving tips here and there. Geonhak visibly coos at the mention of Youngji, lamenting the fact that they might not be able to meet again. Hyungu gives his share of strawberry candy that somehow survives the rain to appease him, and Geonhak predictably lights up.

It’s when they’re getting comfortable, watching documentaries about penguins and seals, that Hyungu realizes how chaotic the day has been. He glances at Dongmyeong, at the way the his shirt ride down his shoulder because Seoho and Geonhak only own oversized clothes, at the way he is leaning to Seoho, both of their eyes glued on the phone in Seoho’s hand, at the way his voice carries in waves of utterings, incomprehensible but familiar, warming. He thinks, then, how he doesn’t really mind the rollercoaster of emotion, and wonders if he has always been this way, or if he had changed, at some point or another.

"Hey," Geonhak peers towards him, breaking his train of thought. He is grinning that wide particular grin, which they had associated as the beginning of his many mischievous streak. Hyungu kinda already dreads it, "I think you and I are alike."

Hyungu blinks and glances towards his non-existent bicep muscle, then at Geonhak’s, making sure he’s still as buff as ever. "I'm flattered, but I'm afraid you need to wear your glasses."

"Brat." Geonhak hits him lightly—which hurts; Hyungu is starting to hate people who work out with burning passion—and laughs. "Not that. The pining, I mean."

Pining? If Hyungu doesn't mis-remember the word, it has the meaning of a painful longing, to yearn so much that it causes suffering. Like a one-sided, unrequited love. Pining sounds desperate, bleak, monotonous. He hates the word that seems like it's a dead end.

Maybe Geonhak had meant the way he always presses gentle palm to the small of Seoho's back. The way he always stands on standby with arms stretched out whenever Seoho does risky acrobatics for fun, ready to catch him if he falls. The way he makes hot chocolate just a little bit differently for Seoho because he likes it that way. The way he is always gentle to Seoho, always accomodating, despite the way they seem to bicker every second of every day. Like the way his eyes twinkle and warm whenever he looks at Seoho.

Is that what pining looks like? Maybe it is so, for Geonhak.

Hyungu doesn’t do that, though, doesn’t hold on to a threadbare affection like it’s a lifeline, doesn’t wish for a flicker of candlelight in the midst of a storm. He doesn’t yearn for something the way Geonhak yearns for Seoho’s love. He… is not in love, or pining, at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Geonhak chuckles, and Hyungu considers saying that his eyes get as small as Seoho when he does that, just to be petty, if only he doesn't know that Geonhak will just say thanks with the most aggravating tone ever. Hyungu never really wins with him. "Your eyes never leave him for some time now."

Hyungu gulps. Realizes.

Dongmyeong is on the line of his sight, arguing with Seoho over a game of piano tiles, with arguments that makes less and less sense over time. "Really,"

"And you're smiling, all the time." Geonhak doesn't try to tease him this time, there's just a slight hint of, strangely, warmth. And exasperation. But it doesn't escape Hyungu that as much as he might or might not be staring at Dongmyeong, Geonhak does the exact same thing to Seoho. "I know what pining looks like. I know how it _feels_ like. You don't have to lie."

Hyungu doesn't answer.

"Just," Geonhak continues, "Do something before you regret."

"Hyung!" Dongmyeong calls, at the same time that Seoho says, "Geonhak-ah!" effectively cutting their talk.

Geonhak, loses all his serious expression and turns into absolute melted marshmallow in front of Seoho, warm and soft and malleable. Now that he puts it into perspective, it's extremely easy to spot the look of complete adoration in Geonhak's eyes. Hyungu wonders how exactly he looks like when Geonhak caught him staring at Dongmyeong.

"Hyung, tell him that piano tiles has nothing to do with actual piano skills!" Dongmyeong shows the screen of his phone, the opening interface of piano tiles, moonlight sonata playing softly as the background music.

"No! It definitely has! It uses the same finger as the real piano, right?"

"So you're saying playing basketball at arcade is the same as playing basketball at the court?"

"I'm just saying that real basketball player would also be good at arcade basketball game!"

"Yeah? So why do you never win, hyung?"

"Are you challenging me?"

By that point, Geonhak has joined them, throwing arguments that are strangely against _both_ of them, making them eventually gang up just to fight Geonhak. The three of them soon laugh as Seoho tickles Geonhak until, somehow, they pile on top of each other. Geonhak screams, throwing threats they all know he won’t follow. Seoho laughs manically, throwing himself almost completely on top of Geonhak, trapping him to the ground, and Hyungu thinks Geonhak is wrong.

Because Seoho gives as much love as he receives, because Seoho looks at Geonhak like he’s the most important thing in the world, and because Seoho holds Geonhak in a way that it won’t hurt despite knowing how strong Geonhak is. Geonhak is wrong, and stupid. It’s not pining if your love is requited, it’s just _gross_ , he wants to think, but the other part of his brain supplies, unhelpfully, that it’s _love_.

He meets eyes with Dongmyeong, who offers his brightest smile that shows his dimples, and he—

He can't refuse.

No amount of half-playful-half-painful beatings from Geonhak can stop them from trying to wrestle him into giggling mess.

Hyungu tries not to think about it, but maybe, just a little bit maybe, he admits that he's in love with Dongmyeong.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets a little complicated.

Having a sibling is something that Hyungu acknowledges only vaguely, because his only sibling is an older sister 7 years apart that he's never been close to. To him, the concept of sibling is as complacent as just another person in his family, more of a functional construct than an affectionate kin. Growing up, there hasn't been any animosity between him and his sister, but they weren't exactly growing together either, as his sister started going to boarding school before he could start to form attachment. Now, at his 20s, he wonders if he should have made more effort, should have tried to bond. But it's a little late for that, he thinks, as he stares at his phone screen, towards the five options of wedding invitation design his sister had posted in the family groupchat.

Hyungu slides through the designs with mild disinterest, so far leaning on the ivory white with swirling pattern and the soft purple with feather pattern. Beside him, Dongmyeong looks up from his PSP, peering towards Hyungu's screen, "I think the purple one is better."

"You think so?"

Dongmyeong nods, "The feather pattern is silver, it's pretty. Think about the wedding decoration. There are a lot of items that could match purple and silver. White will just be boring."

Hyungu is inclined to agree, but more because he just likes the color purple than any further thoughts about the wedding. _I think the purple one is good, nuna_ he types into the groupchat, then locks his phone. He ignores the following notifications as he puts his phone on the floor, then flops his head on Dongmyeong's lap. "I'm kind of sleepy."

Dongmyeong hums, putting his hand on Hyungu's head, stroking lightly, "Go sleep, then."

Dongmyeong continues to pat his head while playing his PSP with one hand. Hyungu is quite sure there isn't any game in the PSP that can be played one handed, but Dongmyeong doesn't show any sign of discomfort. Dongmyeong is just warm, smelling slightly of sweat but mostly like the newest perfume he bought several weeks ago. Hyungu had disliked that perfume at first, but then came to realize that it actually complemented Dongmyeong's sweat scent quite nicely, and so never voiced his complaint. He tries to hide the fact that he snuggles and sniffs more whenever Dongmyeong wears that perfume, but Dongmyeong wears that perfume even more, now, so it’s a moot.

Hyungu, resolutely, only focuses on the way Dongmyeong's warmth and scent calms him enough to sleep, cradled in Dongmyeong's palm with Final Fantasy VII song playing in the lowest volume. He wants this moment to last forever.

He must have slept for at least an hour when Dongmyeong taps his cheek gently but persistently, "Hyung, wake up,"

Hyungu opens his eyes and rises up, apologetic, "Are you tired?"

"No," Dongmyeong bites his lip, and Hyungu realizes his expression has changed. He's no longer relaxed, his eyebrows is furrowed. "I just wanna get my phone."

Dongmyeong gets his phone from the table beside the bed, and checks for any message.

"Something wrong?" Hyungu asks, not sure if Dongmyeong is expecting something he doesn’t end up receiving or if he has just gotten a bad news.

Dongmyeong furrows his eyebrows even more, "No, but I have a bad feeling."

Hyungu motions for Dongmyeong to sit beside him, and now it's his turn to peer onto Dongmyeong's screen. Dongmyeong scrolls through groups and automated ads messages, through game invitations and unimportant personal messages. Until finally, he finds his twin brother's chat window, and hesitates. There's no new messages, but he opens the chat anyway. The last message was this morning, when Dongmyeong asked whether he should buy more milk on the way home tonight, which was left unread. Dongmyeong bites his left thumb as his right hovers over the call button.

"Is he okay?" Hyungu asks.

Unlike Hyungu, to Dongmyeong, sibling is a huge part of his life. Being twins, it's quite impossible for them to be apart from each other. Sure, they argue from time to time, but interestingly, they never have a big fight or a falling out, and so, right now, they're still as close as ever, if not even closer. The myths about twins are usually over-romanticized, but Dongmyeong and Dongju has this thing when they both almost always get sick at the same time, or immediately after each other. It might have been just the nurtured together thing. But, sometimes, in rare times, Dongmyeong gets this bad feeling, like an itching worry in the back of his mind. A lot of times, it turned out to be nothing.

But sometimes, things do happen.

Dongmyeong doesn't answer Hyungu, finally pressing the call button. He puts his phone on his ears, waiting anxiously.

Dongju answers in about the fourth ring (Hyungu was counting). "-myeong-ah," His voice sounds hoarse, rough, almost inaudible.

Dongmyeong's eyes widen with worry. He grips his phone tighter, getting up, "Ju? Where are you?"

There's a choked up sound, and a piercing sob, before there's a really soft reply of, "...home,"

"I'm going there, Ju, stay on the phone, okay?"

Dongju doesn't answer, but he also doesn't hang up. Dongmyeong hurries; attaching earphone so he can pockets his phone, grabbing his jacket by the chair.

Hyungu watches all of that in some kind of dazed wonder, but manages to grab Dongmyeong's arm before he exits the door.

Dongmyeong is about to snap when Hyungu just says, "Let me drive you there."

There's a split second of doubt in Dongmyeong's eyes before he just nods, knowing it would be twice faster to go with Hyungu's car than the bus. He mouths _quick_ , and Hyungu hurries.

"Do you need me to come along?" Hyungu asks the moment they arrive, their first conversation since they left Hyungu’s place, before Dongmyeong opens the car door.

Dongmyeong frowns, his mouth twists, eyes a little watery. "No," he says, already ragged from the tension. "Please wait here, keep the car ready, just... just in case..."

Hyungu nods, letting Dongmyeong leave his sentence unfinished. If needs come to shove, his car would be way faster than an ambulance. For all their sake, he hopes it never comes to that.

He has never gotten close to Dongju. Somehow, in all the years of his friendship with Dongmyeong, the younger twin managed to be someone who has always been in the background, quietly observing but never actually participating. _He's just shy_ , Dongmyeong had said, but it's been near seven years, and they're still as distant as ever. They play together, sometimes, but for all it's worth, Hyungu never knows a single significant thing about Dongju that does not come from Dongmyeong's mouth.

Now, as he waits in the car, the house he thought he knows so well feels increasingly unfamiliar. He thinks, agonizingly, if he should have tried a little more with Dongju. Maybe there were a lot of instances when he could have asked instead of letting things became stale and silent. Maybe he should have pushed harder instead of pulling away. He thinks about whether he could _still_ do anything, right now. Because Dongmyeong's unfinished sentence sounds too ominous, and Hyungu doesn't want his hunch to be true.

After around an hour that Hyungu spends looking anxiously at his phone, a message come. The most nerve-wrecking message he ever opens.

_He's okay. You can go home. Talk to you later._

Hyungu types his answer before he can process what it means,

_Okay_

He spends a minute trying to breathe, letting his nerves seep out as he presses his forehead to the steering wheel. Sometimes, when he's too high-strung, his body _forgets_ , and so he makes conscious effort, this time, inhaling and exhaling until he feels less light-headed. _Dongju is okay_ , he repeats, over and over, until he can sort of believe it, _it’s not your fault._ His phone vibrates again, another message from Dongmyeong.

_Thank you_

-

Dongmyeong doesn’t contact him for about three days.

Hyungu wants to think that he understands, because Dongju is one of the biggest part in Dongmyeong’s life if not _the_ biggest part.

It’s just, the nagging thought that Dongmyeong didn’t have time to think about him, didn’t have the thought to check on him, and the creeping dread that Hyungu will impose on him even more if he contacted him first, eats him. He buries his hand in his pocket with his phone locked, pretending he hasn’t been furiously checking it every thirty minutes, like the dozen of unsent messages in his draft doesn’t exist.

Hyungu is overthinking, and spiraling down.

He needs Geonhak.

“You two fighting?”

Hyungu chokes on his spit, because he wishes it was them that is fighting, instead of his own creeping fear, irrational and out of place. “Kind of,” Hyungu lies.

Geonhak raises his eyebrow. Disbelief, but in a really small dosage that it only looks like he’s confused. Which he might as well be.

“I miss him, hyung.” Being able to say this out loud, at least to Geonhak, feels liberating, in a way.

During these three days, Hyungu had been burying himself in as many projects he could, including finishing almost all his assignments and reading half of his unread book collections. There’s science behind piling oneself in distractions that could be effective in battling negative feelings, but Hyungu thinks those theories as bullshit, as in every sentences he reads, he still agonizes that fact that something could be happening to _both_ of the twin, and he would be none the wiser.

“Why is he mad at you, anyway?” Geonhak offers him a joystick, which he accepts absently, letting Geonhak choose the arena for the Kart Rider game he already has on.

“It’s complicated,” Hyungu says, pretending to be immersed in speeding through turns, “I don’t even know if it’s my fault.”

Geonhak finishes first place, with ridiculously wide gap to where Hyungu is, apparently, going backwards. Geonhak sighs and takes the joystick out of his hand, then turns off the game. “Come with me.”

The artisan place is in the middle of a small alley, three turns away from the main road. There isn’t much instrument on display, but it looks like it has various kind of things in small amount. Hyungu has seen this place when he first gave his guitar for repair, to a clerk with hair so colorful it resembled a unicorn. He said it would take around two weeks to complete, because of the queue, and he remembered thinking that the store must be very famous to have such a long waiting list.

Today, that boy’s hair is still very much unicorn-like, but instead of complimentary smile, he waves excitedly at their entrance.

“Kiwook-ah, is Yonghoon-hyung in?” Geonhak says, hugging him.

Kiwook pouts, but his eyes sparkle when he looks up to Geonhak, giving him an uncanny resemblance to the sad Detective Pikachu meme, “You’re always looking for him when you come here, hyung,”

“I’ll buy you rice cakes later, how about that?”

“I want ice cream too.”

“Deal.”

Kiwook smiles, gummy and adorable, “Yeay! Yonghoon-hyung is at the back, hyung.”

Geonhak thanks him with headpats before pulling Hyungu through the door behind the cashier. The store turns out to be way bigger than it looks, decorated in muted grey color with splashes of orange. They turn the corridor the second time before arriving at a door labeled with [Studio] and littered with band posters.

When Geonhak opens the door, the sound blasting from the inside physically pushes Hyungu back. He’s very much perplexed when Geonhak pulls his hand inside, laughing and grumbling something that might be _the first time is always like that_ , but Geonhak’s voice is hardly audible on normal setting, and Hyungu isn’t confident with his lip-reading ability. It’s really amazing how none of the sound leaks outside before the door was opened. Even Youngjo’s studio’s soundproofing isn’t this good.

The studio is quite large, with a lot of empty space in the middle, which is currently occupied with a half-made violin and carving tools and broken strings. The sound comes from the very corner, where a guy is hunched on a big gaming chair, clicking things while some beat plays on loop. Geonhak goes straight for the guy while Hyungu stalls, waiting until the guy acknowledges Geonhak’s presence and greets him.

Yonghoon is a wonderful guy.

Despite having a somewhat perplexing first impression because of the loudness of the room, Yonghoon quickly greets them and introduces himself. He’s only four years older than Geonhak, apparently, but he spent his whole life studying music instrument, inheriting this little shop from his late uncle. He has a charming smile, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’re the center of his world. He also has charming face, which is really just to say that he’s very good looking. He’s just, charming, in general. Hyungu’s eyes are unconsciously drawn to him whenever he talks. It’s not until way later, hours away from those charms, that Hyungu thinks how Yonghoon could have done a good job being a con artist or a cult leader—hell, Hyungu would probably be a believer—and promptly thanks his upbringing that he ended up loving music.

“Ah, so you’re the Gibson acoustic owner? Nice to meet you! I’m sorry, but your guitar should be finished in about three days? I have around two more in my queue.” The deafening silence that comes from the contrast from the overly loud sound from before makes Yonghoon’s voice carries strongly, reverberating from all around the room instead of two meters in front of him.

Hyungu bows, “It’s alright, please take good care of it.”

“Hyung,” Geonhak says, “Do you still give guitar lesson?”

Yonghoon eyes him suspiciously, “You ran away from my lessons all the time and suddenly want to learn again?”

Geonhak laughs, not the littlest bit apologetic, “Not for me,” he points to Hyungu, “For him.”

“Me?”

It takes a while (ten minutes, really, Hyungu’s resolve is as weak as a wet celery and Yonghoon’s dazzling eyes is not helping) for Geonhak to finally convince Hyungu to take it, and they agreed on once to thrice a week lesson, depending on their schedule.

Yonghoon is absolutely delighted at the thought that Hyungu did busking and is planning to do even more. He didn’t tell that his busking partner had essentially ditched him, and thankfully Yonghoon didn’t ask. Even when the busking wasn’t really successful, Yonghoon said _having the courage to go out there is a success in itself,_ and Hyungu didn’t really respond to that, because he didn’t know how. Secretly, though, he treasured those words, remembering the feeling of freedom and innocent excitement.

Yonghoon then gives them a tour around the store, showing them music instruments from the most basic to the most obscure, and let them touch and try everything. Geonhak claims that he’s already bored about all the things in the shop because of how often he comes by in the past, but Hyungu knows he still watches in interest as Yonghoon plays every bit of instrument with extremely deft finger. It’s unbelievable that a man of such talent can be found here, somewhere in this rundown city, holding a small shop instead of flying all around the world. Yonghoon laughs when Hyungu accidentally lets the thought slips out his mouth.

“I like it better this way,” he says, and really, in the end, that’s all that matters.

They leave the place with two new numbers in Hyungu’s phone (Kiwook insisted that they’re friends now that Hyungu is Yonghoon’s _apprentice_. His word, not Hyungu’s).

Geonhak drives him to his house, humming ballad songs with the radio turned off. When they arrived, he asked, “Do you feel better now?” with worried eyes and a half smile.

Hyungu smiles back. The worry hasn’t disappeared, but it’s all watered down, like being patted with gentle hands. “Yeah, I think so.” Yonghoon’s shop feels like a magical visit, with an excited unicorn and a charming wizard, “Thanks, hyung.”

As if sensing Hyungu’s doubt, Geonhak says, “Do you want to come again tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Geonhak smiles then, wider, “See you tomorrow, then, Hyungu-yah.”

-

Dongmyeong’s sweater is still on his bed. He had forgotten, because it was on the foot side, and he doesn’t really clean up the room. He knows Dongmyeong’s things are still around and he feels miserable. This isn’t the first time they’ve been apart for long, but this is the first time that they hadn’t contacted each other in between. The first time he isn’t even sure that he still can.

_What did I do wrong?_ He wants to ask, wants to turn back time, wants to pick at every little thing that he did, wondering if he could have done things differently. He thinks about Dongju, too, overanalyzing everything he had ever said and did, but his memory of Dongju is fuzzy at best, so he doesn’t go anywhere. He lies down on the bed, diagonally, letting his head lols over the edge, looking at his room upside down.

It just looks strange. Unfamiliar.

He sleeps clutching Dongmyeong’s sweater close to his face, phone in hand. In the chat window, there’s a new message sent, from him,

_You okay? I miss you._

-

When Hyungu comes again, Seoho is there.

“Hyung, hello,” he greets.

“Oh, you’re really here.” Seoho throws a napkin at him, “Come on, help me baking.”

Hyungu stares at the foreign piece of cloth in front of him, knowing he hasn’t set his foot anywhere near a kitchen for who knows how long, “Uh. Hyung, I can’t cook.”

“Neither can I. Come on, Geonhak is the one who will eat it, anyway.”

“Hey!” Geonhak jumps, approaching Seoho in big steps. Seoho laughs and runs, and, predictably, Geonhak chases him. But, even though Geonhak is glowering with a little shout here and there, the laugh in either of their faces can’t be hidden.

Still standing there, some steps away from the entrance, Hyungu feels a touch of loneliness that he can’t comprehend. But then Seoho crashes onto him, shrieking, “Hyungu-yah, help me!” which doesn’t help much anyway because Geonhak lifts them both to throw them to the sofa.

They spend the rest of the afternoon making cookies, or attempting to, at least, because Seoho always insists that the taste is wrong, in which Geonhak would then explain, very exasperatedly, that there’s no way they can really taste the cake just from the batter. Seoho argues that cookie dough should be as good as the cookie itself, if not better. Geonhak stops him from eating the dough because,

“Raw egg will give you stomachace, Hyung!”

“So you’re saying the egg is not hygienic?”

“That’s not what I meant,”

“Egg is the most hygienic thing in the world, you know. It has the shell that protects it from everything!”

“But eggs can still go bad, right? You have to cook it, hyung.”

“Then how about eggnog? You’re eating it raw!”

To be honest, Hyungu is starting to regret coming alone when both of them are at home. If he’s alone, they can’t have a somewhat-equal debate, and they’re gonna be insufferable if he picks any side. He laughs at them instead, neatly placing his rectangle shaped cookie into the tray. At least he hopes some of them are going to be edible at the end of the day. He’s glad Geonhak is mostly there to actually follow the recipe.

The cookies turn out okay. Hyungu’s are somewhat burnt, Seoho’s too soft, and Geonhak’s tastes weirdly like pistachio, which none of them are sure where it comes from. They decided unanimously that Seoho’s tastes the best (“ _I fucking said so” “Shut the fuck up”)_ as they sit together watching Hunter X Hunter.

They’re three episodes in when Seoho’s phone rings. He gets up to receive it, leaving the two. Hyungu notices that Geonhak doesn’t take his eyes off Seoho’s retreating back, cookies still half-bitten in his teeth.

“Hyung, you know what,”

“Hm?” Geonhak grumbles between chews.

“It’s not pining if he likes you back.”

Geonhak startles, then chuckles, “That’s sudden.”

“You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Geonhak sighs, “I know, now.”

Hyungu looks at him, at his pensive gesture, wide shoulder slumped, eyes a little downcast, sincere. Geonhak is always sincere in everything he does. He puts his guard up so high but that’s because he’s a complete softheart inside. Both Geonhak and Seoho tiptoes around each other in the pretense of tough love, and Hyungu doesn’t know if they’re stubborn or just dumb. Maybe both.

“How did it happen, hyung?”

This time Geonhak smiles, fully happy, “I told you, right? Do it before you regret.”

Hyungu thinks about that for a long time.

-

Two days later, the day Hyungu is supposed to go to Yonghoon’s shop to pick up his guitar and take lesson, Dongmyeong messages him.

_Let’s meet next week._

Hyungu replies rapid affirmative and questions, but Dongmyeong never replies. There’s a small (1) icon beside his messages, mocking him.

-

“You know, for someone who hasn’t even confessed yet, you really look like you’re going through a breakup.” Geonhak is driving him to Yonghoon’s shop again, this time for the purpose of treating Kiwook.

Hyungu holds his breath, trying to formulate an answer. It’s only after too long when finally, he says, “I don’t know what to do, hyung. He messaged me earlier, asking to meet next week, but doesn’t even read my reply.”

“Huh,” Geonhak says, “That sounds rough.”

“I know, right.”

They don’t talk about it again, or about anything at all the rest of the way. Geonhak lets the radio play on low volume, some pop rock song they both don’t recognize. Hyungu balls his hand, holding himself back from taking his phone out of his pocket.

Lesson goes well, as far as Hyungu’s aware. Yonghoon, on top of everything else, is a good teacher. He starts of with something really basic, something that Hyungu already understand but needs to revisit anyway. They do everything step by step, but fast, as Yonghoon keeps adding steps after steps that gets more and more difficult. They stop whenever Hyungu is struggling, repeating parts until Hyungu gets it easier. And just like that, two hours passes.

“You’re distracted today,” Yonghoon begins, not unkindly.

Hyungu flushes, “Ah, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not that you did badly, just,” Yonghoon bites his lip a little, then leans forward, looking at Hyungu with eyes that sparkles with compassion and warmth, “Are you okay?”

Hyungu releases his left hand from making F key, letting it hang loosely. Honestly, unloading to Yonghoon doesn’t seem so bad. He’s an almost stranger, and he looks like he has a lot of experience. If anything, Yonghoon wouldn’t judge him. “It’s just,” he starts,

Then the door opens, showing Geonhak and Kiwook with plastic bags that smells like tteokbokki. Kiwook’s step is springy and half tiptoe, and it’s cute to see him looking up, literally and probably also figuratively, to Geonhak, who is telling a joke that is most likely not funny.

“We bought tteokbokki and ice cream!”

“ _I_ bought it, you mean.”

“But I was the one who asked to buy for you guys, too, aren’t I kind.”

Geonhak laughs, then ruffles Kiwook’s colorful hair, fond, “Sure, Kiwook-ah.”

Hyungu laughs along, a little more reserved. He glances at Yonghoon, who tries to participate in the banter but also still surreptitiously glancing at Hyungu. _I’m okay, don’t worry_ , Hyungu mouths. Yonghoon furrows his eyebrows but then nods quickly, letting it go.

They eat, and get a little bit closer. It’s not so bad.

When it’s time to leave, Yonghoon gives Hyungu a hug, a pat on the back, and a whisper of, “You’ll be okay, kid.”

Hyungu smiles and bows a thanks. He will be okay. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this might look very un-cohesive or out of nowhere, probably bc I keep abandoning and revisiting this fic over long period of time. anw thanks for reading!


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the conflict, and the resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warning: mention of depression, mention of attempted suicide, mention of medication / therapy
> 
> enjoy, i guess

When they meet, Hyungu has mastered a good portion of The Chainsmoker’s songs to the point he can play it almost effortlessly, which is exactly what he does. He’s better at avoiding problem instead of facing it. So, hugging his guitar, strumming Closer on repeat, he pretends nothing happens as he waits for Dongmyeong to settle in.

“Let’s go busking again,” Dongmyeong plays along, and every bit of questions and excuses disappears from Hyungu’s mouth. He had wanted Dongmyeong to be the one to explain, but it seems like even that is a little too much. At the very least, Hyungu is good at waiting.

They fall into their routine, Dongmyeong sitting on the bed and Hyungu on the floor, taking notes. It's been about ten minutes that they browse through popular songs on youtube, trying to decide what song to cover. Though, seeing as Dongmyeong keep skipping songs after the first twenty seconds, grumbling that none suits his taste, the afternoon have been pretty unproductive.

Hyungu, finally, gives up, and bites the bullet, "How is he?"

That quiets Dongmyeong down, as he pauses the video for good, letting the silence hang. Hyungu knows Dongmyeong is never good with silence, especially the awkward ones. Hyungu relies on that as he waits, not sure whether he should push or pull, or both, or neither.

Dongmyeong visibly bites his own lips, refusing to meet Hyungu's eyes, "He's okay."

It’s a lie. Both of them are terrible liars, and they know it. Hyungu makes sure that Dongmyeong gives no sign to continue on his own before replying, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dongmyeong had always been pretty honest to him, years of friendship guarantee that. But, in particular, Hyungu is someone who listens well, and Dongmyeong is someone who doesn't hide secrets well. At some point, Dongmyeong figures that Hyungu keeps his secrets better than himself, so from then on, he gives Hyungu all his secrets.

All, except one.

Dongmyeong had never shared anything about Dongju. Hyungu still knows bits and pieces of Dongju’s welfare or some tiny little anecdotes. But never, not even once, had Dongmyeong talked about any of his fights with Dongju. All those nights he stays over, they mostly spend it binge-eating sweets until their teeth rots, and then brushing their teeth together before Hyungu insists on spooning Dongmyeong to sleep. Somehow, it always works, despite both of them not being inclined to physical touch, despite Dongmyeong always waking up in sweat, swaddled between Hyungu and the sheet.

Then Dongmyeong would wake him up, grumbling and whining about breakfast, and then he'd smile again, and somehow, the next day, he and Dongju would be okay again.

Hyungu never found out how it went on Dongju's side.

He remembers, once again, the feeling of waiting for an hour in front of their house, worrying for a week in silence, wondering if he had been making the right choices. Again, he thinks about whether he should have tried harder.

"No."

Hyungu nods, already expecting the answer. Even if there had been things he could have changed, it probably is too late, at this point. "Okay."

He's halfway on a strum when Dongmyeong speaks again, "No. Yes... No. Actually, please ask me again."

Hyungu stares at him, at the way his knuckles turn white from balling so tight. Hyungu puts down his guitar to take those hands into his, "Dongmyeong-ah, do you want to talk about it?"

Dongmyeong opens his mouth, like he wants to say something, but eventually closes it again. When he looks up, Hyungu realizes Dongmyeong is crying.

"Hey, hey," Hyungu immediately wraps him in a hug, hands going to the nape of Dongmyeong's neck, pressing their bodies together. "It's okay, it's okay."

Dongmyeong cries in silence, as his shoulder shakes with every sob and tears that flows down Hyungu's shoulder. “Dongju, he,” he sobs, brokenly, “he tried to kill himself.”

Shiver runs through Hyungu’s body. He tries to hide it, tries to stay as still as possible, hoping Dongmyeong wouldn’t notice. There are a million questions in his head, but Dongmyeong is crying, and whatever it is he feels is less important.

“It’s my fault, hyung,” Dongmyeong cries out, now, loud and miserable, “I… I didn’t know. I never knew. I should have taken better care of him, I should have been paying attention. I… I shouldn’t have been so selfish—“

Hyungu doesn’t know what to say. Because Dongmyeong is a wonderful brother, who always makes sure Dongju never feels left out, who calls him everyday, who adores him to the moon and back, who fights for him, who drops everything the moment Dongju needs him, no matter the time and place, despite acting like he’s annoyed by it. Dongmyeong is the furthest from the word selfish, because he’s kind even to strangers, because he hides his discomfort so well out of respect. Dongmyeong is a wonderful human being, with flaws that make him him, but not selfish, _never_ selfish.

“It’s not your fault, Dongmyeong-ah,” It never was, and never will be. Hyungu reels from the realization that Dongmyeong thinks exactly the same thing he had been thinking, with probably ten thousand times more intensity, and his thoughts turn murky to the possibility that no matter how hard they try, things still happen, fate wouldn’t change. So he tries to shut down his brain, to focus instead on the boy in his arm, who needs help that he isn’t sure how to give.

Dongmyeong still doesn’t tell everything. When Dongmyeong first found him, Dongju was curling at the corner of the bathroom, almost under the sink. There’s a box of cutter scattered on the floor, but it’s his phone Dongju was gripping, still open to the voice call with Dongmyeong. The rest was like hazy dreams, skipping classes to watch Disney movies, color a coloring book they bought last year they never got to use, made lots of clays, cleaned the house, and a lot of little things they could think to do. But the most important was probably the time they spent cuddling in their softest blanket, sometimes talking, more times just sleeping. There hasn’t been a lot of chances to use the phone, because the sight of phone seemed to make Dongju uneasy, and by the time Dongmyeong remembered, it was already running out of battery.

“Where is he now?”

“I offered to accompany him to a therapist, once he calmed down. He’s there now. I’m going to pick him up in like two hours.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

Dongmyeong considers it, then shakes his head, “No, thank you. Not yet, at least.”

Hyungu nods, and they go back to silence, heavy with thoughts.

“Let’s not busk this week. Let’s go to the circus. Dongju likes it, right?” Hyungu asks, when they’re too tired to cry, too tired to talk, only half lying down on the mattress. He remembers the circus poster he picked from the wall of Yonghoon’s alley, probably still crumpled in his guitar case.

“Circus…” Dongmyeong wonders aloud, “That sounds nice.”

“I don’t know if it will be a good idea, but we can go together. What do you think?” Hyungu traces patterns on Dongmyeong’s knuckle, repetitive circle that he hopes will ground him down.

“I’ll talk to him.” Dongmyeong smiles again, finally, and Hyungu feels like his heart is blessed, “Thank you, hyung.”

-

Dongju agreed.

Surprisingly, without even the need of convincing.

“Are you sure?” Dongmyeong had asked, tentative.

Dongju snorted, “I’m okay, Myeong-ah.” He says, “I have the pills now.”

Dongmyeong went quiet at that, only squeezing Dongju’s hand tighter.

The circus is large, full of pointy tents and colorful banners. A blue-green clown walks up to them, offering them free candies for the promotional period. They ate it, and it tastes like mint and citrus, which Dongju loves, but Dongmyeong hates. Dongju laughs as he told Dongmyeong that he can’t spit it out, “You can’t litter here!”

“Ugh! It’s so gross! Why did you throw away the wrapping?”

“Just eat it, it’s not that bad!”

Hyungu laughs at Dongmyeong’s expression, face contorting ridiculously in an attempt to avoid the unpleasant taste. He suggests that Dongmyeong swallow it, which he does right away. It was a mistake, because it went the wrong way, and now both Hyungu and Dongju are smacking Dongmyeong’s back, trying to get it out.

It’s stupid, but they have an hour before the main show, and so what better way to spend the time than to laugh at a bestfriend’s misfortune? They banter more as they go around the area, observing stalls that sells overpriced skewers and cotton candies. Everywhere, there are colors and laughs, and occasionally they bump with the clowns, who always smile before striking funny pantomime poses.

“Dongju, take our picture!”

Dongju takes the phone from Dongmyeong’s hand, taking several pictures. _The sight of phone still makes him uncomfortable_ , Hyungu suddenly remembers, and realizes that Dongju doesn’t bring his. _What happened, Dongju,_ he wants to ask, staring to the boy who smiles just as he had always remembered, whose laugh still sounds as bright as it usually is.

“Aren’t you going to take pictures too, hyung?”

It bothers him, a bit, that he can’t tell the difference.

“Nah. I’ll take you two’s picture, here.” It might be his imagination, but Dongju’s hands shiver when he hands him Dongmyeong’s phone. Hyungu tries not to think about it, focuses on finding the best angle to capture both twin, throwing pose suggestion.

When he checks the result, Dongmyeong’s solo pictures were all blurry and out of focus.

They go around the circus, looking at every beautiful tents before they need to get into the main show. The twins guilt trip Hyungu to buy a really strange looking and probably cursed amulet that is obviously out of his budget, so he compensates by winning them two bear plushies from the shooting target stalls. They smile and laugh and take more photos together, Hyungu always insisting on taking the pictures.

It was when Dongju is enamored by a really strange fishtank that Dongmyeong edges closer to him, and nudges. “Thanks for today, hyung. For bringing us here, and, for not asking.”

Hyungu’s eyes widen. Dongmyeong has bags under his eyes. Despite having make up, his stares are a little dim, a little weak. He realizes then, that if he struggles positioning himself in front of Dongju for a few hours, it must have been devastating for Dongmyeong to do that every hour of the day for more than a week already, now. Hyungu gulps. It’s not about him. He doesn’t deserve the thanks. What should he say that wouldn’t be a complete lie?

“If you both like It, I’m glad.”

Dongmyeong smiles at him, leaning to his shoulder. They stay that way until a clown announces the show is going to start.

-

Hyungu is in Geonhak’s place again, playing soccer game on PlayStation, pretending he doesn’t suck at it as Geonhak lands the fifth goal. He blames the joystick, as all petty players do, which earns him a laugh from Geonhak. When that still doesn’t work, he prepares something else.

“Hyung, I think I’m going to confess.”

“What?” It doesn’t work, for the most part, because soccer game is not like racing game where everything can change in a matter of split second. Soccer games need continuous concentration, and apparently some kind of satanic skill, which Hyungu doesn’t have but Geonhak has in abundance as his midfielder steals the ball from Hyungu’s defender. “You’re done fighting?”

Geonhak lands another goal, and the game ends. Hyungu gives up his joystick and flops back to the pillows on his back, “We weren’t actually fighting, hyung. It’s complicated.”

“So?”

“Would it be the right time to confess?”

“Hey,” Geonhak says, “There never is the right time to do it. It’s precious, but at the same time it’s really is nothing special. It just happens, sometimes. And when it does, you let it.”

Hyungu thinks about it for a long time, maybe Geonhak is right.

-

Hyungu is not generally good with people. He doesn’t know how to read cues, doesn’t know how to determine a moment. He has to think to reach those conclusion people seem to make in a matter of seconds. And so days and weeks passed, in which he still hasn’t confessed to Dongmyeong. They busk every weekend and practice every chance they get. They’re getting good at it, jamming to the crowd that still don’t give them more than a glance. But they’re learning to enjoy it, singing to the void but at the same time to the world, and when sometimes people clap, they will be overjoyed.

Dongmyeong eventually brings Dongju to do both his and Hyungu’s make up, and Hyungu had been cautious at first, but he had seen how Dongju seems even better than when they went to circus, and Dongmyeong had said that the therapy helps them both a lot. And so Hyungu lets Dongju does his face, putting blush-on and orange lipstick and orange glitter on his eyelids. “You look like a tangerine,” he says after he finishes, and they then sing songs about fruits and vegetables.

Dongju follows them to their busking, clapping for them when nobody does. Yonghoon’s lessons pay off, because even through the nervousness, this time Hyungu doesn’t make mistake. Dongmyeong is getting more confident too, with Dongju on his side. He gives appropriate expressions, and flirts in the most charming way.

It’s not long before they have audience, a few girls from the nearby college, part timer taking their breaks, and tired office worker coming home from work. They smile and sing along, some record it to their phone. It’s not the best of audience, and it might not give them million dollars contract, but it’s enough. It’s more than what they had expected, and it’s certainly going to get better. Dongju jokes that people start coming because they’re attracted to a handsome boy who always watches, which Dongmyeong denies vehemently and Hyungu accepts solemnly.

It’s may not be significant, but it’s their life now.

-

“We’ve come a long way.”

This few months have been the most confusing and exhilarating months in the entirety of Hyungu’s life. “Yeah, we have, haven’t we,”

They’re at Hyungu’s room again, like they always are. They should probably think about Yonghoon’s offer of using his studio to practice instead of being super cautious about the neighbors, because Yonghoon can tutor them while he works on his repair. Apparently, Yonghoon also has a very nice singing voice. But there’s something in this room that feels so comfortable, so them, and they keep doing it here, ignoring the occasional anonymous knock on their door and the potential scolding from the security staff that honestly never gives a fuck.

There, sitting side by side, reading music notes of the next pop song they decide to perform, it feels right.

Dongmyeong had stopped at such a random moment just to say that, and Hyungu feels apprehensive. Appreciative, too, at the way everything feels somewhat overwhelming in the most underwhelming kind of way. He feels so much emotion during these few months than he ever felt in probably his whole life, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. All that he knows is that he likes it, likes this, likes the way they’re slightly leaning to each other, squeezing up to read from the same small phone screen.

“Hyung,” Dongmyeong begins, “Don’t get mad at me, okay. I want to try this.”

Dongmyeong leans, and kisses Hyungu’s lips. Just a peck, and then a smile. “I thought if I don’t do it like this, you would just keep it in your head.”

Hyungu’s head swirls in a whilrwind of emotion, and, strangely enough, Geonhak’s stupid smile flashes in his mind. _It just happens, sometimes. And when it does, you let it_. He hates Geonhak, but he also kinda wants to thank him, right now.

“I wasn’t sure before, you know. But Dongju told me that it’s obvious. I should have trusted Seoho-hyung when he told me you had a crush on me forever ago.”

Hyungu wants to know just how _obvious_ his crush had been, to have everybody knowing. Apparently he’s not as subtle as he initially thinks. But also when did Dongmyeong talk to Seoho without him, and why did Geonhak never tell. So much thoughts, so much confusion. But it all slips down the drain when Dongmyeong flutters his eyes and asks, “Do you not like it?”

Hyungu leaps forward to capture Dongmyeong’s lips again, almost ending up headbutting him in the process.

“I do.” He says, almost breathless, “Fuck, I _so_ do. Dongmyeong, I like you.”

Dongmyeong laughs, and it sounds like the tinkling of bells, “I know it,”

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s not perfect, they’re awkward from sitting for so long, their teeth clash to each other. But neither wants to stop, neither wants to let go. And maybe it’s okay, it’s okay. They’re just another boring pieces in the hands of the universe but they like this, this moment that feels like theirs, that doesn’t need to mean anything or belong anywhere else.

-

"Hyung," It's a night like this, nights that are spent on quiet and retrospect, drowning in their own thoughts. They perch on one of the closed cafe rooftop, high enough to see the river. "If we're to be reborn, what would you be?"

Hyungu has stopped strumming his guitar for a long while, now. Would it be lonely if he stops playing it altogether? Suddenly he couldn't imagine himself ever being separated from guitars, from music. "I still want to play guitar." His voice is barely above murmur, almost inaudible had the silence not been so absolute.

Dongmyeong hums, "True."

"I also want to travel. A lot." Hyungu turns to Dongmyeong, smiling, "Traveling while also busking, wouldn't that be fun?"

Dongmyeong laughs at that, remembering how reluctant he had been when the idea of busking was first introduced. "I think you don't need another lifetime to make it true."

Dongmyeong's eyes are so sincere, so bright, that Hyungu falters a little. The wind blows, raising goosebumps around Dongmyeong's exposed shoulder. Something he unconsciously pays attention to before mustering the courage to look at Dongmyeong's eyes. What is he even shy for, at this point? "You think so?"

Dongmyeong nods, "Let's make it true."

"Together?"

There's a split second hesitation before they lean forward, pressing lip to lip, gently, softly, carefully. Like a promise.

Their hands intertwine, foreheads touching, and smiling, smiling, smiling so much that it's aching.

"Together."

-

“To be completely honest, I had always wanted to be a flight attendant.”

Hyungu laughs, "That's so random."

"I just want to know how it feels to wear those fancy uniforms." Dongmyeong pauses, “But, if we fulfill your dream in this lifetime, would you want to accompany me in our next lifetime?”

Hyungu looks at Dongmyeong, “Isn’t that too cheesy?”

“Come on, hyung!”

Hyungu takes Dongmyeong’s hand, and kisses his knuckle, “Next life, I’ll be a pilot, so we still get to be together.”

Dongmyeong hits him, "Look who’s cheesy now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED IT!! This fic has been the longest published fic I have to date since I first writing in grade school. This is not the best piece by me, I know I could have worked it again so it is more cohesive, but the fact that I finished it in itself is something big for me. I'm happy I can prove to myself that I can write something more than 1000+ words!!! Look at this, me! 10k words!! Look! You made it!! 
> 
> Anyways, for whoever reading this, thank you so much for giving your time, and I wish you have a nice day!

**Author's Note:**

> Dongmyeong and Kanghyun stood back to back during EoS performance and it was my main drive force in writing this fic, and then all the kangdding moments this cb gave me was a very definite encouragement but even so this has taken so long to finish lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think! Or talk to me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/azcasky)/ [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/azcasky)~


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